


DAII: Templar Training

by bioticbootyshaker



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbootyshaker/pseuds/bioticbootyshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for aurionne on tumblr, for Alistair Porn Week. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	DAII: Templar Training

Training always ended at dusk, with the trainees fracturing into small groups to chat and make their way to the mess hall for dinner and their templar trainers watching them with their cold, assessing eyes. 

Alistair hated those eyes. From the moment he’d gone into training to become a templar, he’d resented his masters. They were harsh and had high expectations from a group of men and women who had barely left their teens. They barked their orders and instructions, they spat on those who couldn’t seem to get a handle on their training, they rarely let them eat or sleep.

The only bright spot to an otherwise dreary existence was a fellow recruit named Cullen who, as far as Alistair could tell, was a kind-hearted man with more integrity in his little finger as the templars had in their entire bodies. It was Cullen that Alistair walked away from the training grounds with, both of them sweaty and filthy and flushed, blonde hair turned brown with dirt, their hands beginning to form calluses and blisters.

It was Cullen that Alistair looked to as a friend and confidant. He was more than an ally, and more than a brother; to Alistair, Cullen was the only person keeping him from total despair. 

Every recruit had their sob story. Some had been drawn in with the promise of money, which had proved to be an embellishment. Some had come seeking glory where there was little to be had. Alistair remained silent on the subject, save for when he was alone with Cullen, on his side in Cullen’s bed while Cullen sat upright with a book open in his lap. 

Cullen nudged Alistair’s foot with his elbow. “You never said why you wanted to join,” Cullen said, closing his book and laying it aside. “I’ve been trying to figure it out by listening to you but--- Has anyone ever told you that you speak quite a bit and say very little?”

_Yes_ , Alistair wanted to say, _All the time_. Unfortunately he was too caught off-guard by Cullen’s question to say much of anything. He sighed, but that wasn’t really a response, and it wasn’t enough to satisfy Cullen. 

Usually Cullen was quiet, the last one to speak up, the last one to complain, the last one to pry into someone’s business; but when it came to Alistair he seemed genuinely curious. Not in an obnoxious, overbearing way, but in a sweet way that made Alistair’s skin tingle. 

Not a normal reaction, most likely.

“Er, um…,” Alistair muttered, “I just… Well, I just wanted to join, I suppose.” He laughed nervously. “There wasn’t, that is to say, I don’t remember really making the decision but---“

“Alistair,” Cullen said. His voice was soft and so was the hand on Alistair’s calf. _Don’t do that_ , Alistair tried to say, _Maker, please don’t_. His tongue refused to form the words however, on the off-chance that Cullen would actually listen and stop.

“I didn’t decide to join the templars,” Alistair said, “I was a good little boy at the Chantry. Well, good enough, only a few of the Sisters caught me peeking at them and there was only a handful of times I was caught sneaking candy during my lessons. No, the templars chose me. I guess I was just supposed to come here, and how do you fancy that?”

“Just fine,” Cullen said, “I’m glad to have someone I can talk to. I was worried that everyone here would be like me. Quiet, dull, a stick-in-the-mud.”

“I _am_ like you.”

“No. You’re not. You’re funny. Maybe you’re serious occasionally but most of the time you’re making everyone smile.”

“They do not smile because I’m funny,” Alistair muttered, “They smile because I’m socially inept. Ha-ha, look at dumb Alistair being dumb. Oh, look, Alistair managed to get his head stuck in the bannister, let’s poke and prod him in the backside for an hour while he cries.”

Cullen chuckled. “Is that an anecdote, or…?”

“No, no,” Alistair said, flushing, “That was… I just made that up. I’m not that pathetic.” He was lying, he hadn’t made it up, and he _was_ that pathetic, but there was no reason Cullen needed to know that.

“Good,” Cullen said. His touch moved a little higher, resting on the back of Alistair’s thigh. “I would hate to have to track down the vile fiends who would poke and prod you with your head caught in a bannister.”

“You’re teasing me now,” Alistair muttered, “Oh, yay.”

“No,” Cullen whispered, “I’m not teasing. You know, Alistair… I might be dull but that doesn’t mean I’m not passionate about… certain things. And it certainly doesn’t mean that when I see something I want I won’t do everything I can to make it mine.”

“You’ve officially crossed into the realm of ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’,” Alistair said, “So, yes, kudos.”

Alistair knew exactly what Cullen was talking about. People might have teased Alistair for being a little dim, but he was anything but stupid. The warm hand inching up his thigh and nearing his ass made things pretty damn clear.

Again, words caught in Alistair’s throat. He wanted to say, _You really shouldn’t be doing that_ , and he wanted to say, _Nice, but you could go a little higher_ , but all that came out was a wheeze and a flustered cough. 

Maker help him, he had no idea what he was doing. No one had ever touched him that way before, no one had ever _wanted_ him. It wasn’t as though this came as a shock to him, no matter how oblivious he usually was to matters of sex and flirtation; he had seen the way Cullen looked at him. He had seen the little glances and the flirty smiles and the slight flush on Cullen’s face when their eyes met.

“Should I stop?” Cullen asked. His hand paused at the top of Alistair’s thigh, right beneath his butt. “Do you want me to stop? Do you want this? I’m… _Maker_ , I’m sorry Alistair.”

Why in Andraste’s name was he _sorry_? Alistair was trembling and lifting his hips up to take some pressure off of his erection. Neither of those things meant that Cullen should be _sorry_. 

Alistair said something, his voice muffled against his arm. He had to put his arm there, otherwise the noises he was making would be audible.

“What?” Cullen asked.

He drew his arm away, briefly. “Don’t stop,” Alistair said, biting his bottom lip. He felt dizzy and his face was hot. Alistair wondered how there was enough blood to fill his face when he was so frustratingly hard. 

Cullen’s hands grabbed his ass roughly, but softened when Alistair whined into his arm. He massaged gently, digging his thumbs in with just enough pressure to make Alistair’s stomach tighten and grow hot. He realized then that he was in his smallclothes, essentially, a pair of thin cotton trousers and shirt. That was all, not even an inch of fabric between his body and Cullen’s hands.

Alistair moved to roll onto his back, but Cullen held his hip and kept him in place. “Not just yet,” Cullen said, “I’m having fun.”

“Oh, of course you are,” Alistair muttered, “Meanwhile I am going to die from lack of blood to my brain. Or… something. Do you see? I can’t even speak.”

“You always talk like that,” Cullen said absently, “Relax.”

Easier said than done, but Alistair made an effort.

He tensed when Cullen began to pull down his trousers. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Cullen asked.

“N-no,” Alistair whispered, “Just… uh… No. It’s fine. Go ahead. Really. It’s okay.”

Cullen chuckled, tucking his thumbs under the waistband of Alistair’s breeches and pulling them down. The air was cold on his ass, and Alistair wiggled a bit, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. He was laying there with his underwear beneath his ass and Cullen sitting over him. Maker, he was sure that there was something horribly wrong with his backside that he’d never noticed. He probably had a mole back there with a hair growing out of it. At the very least he was freckled there, with a soft covering of blonde hair. 

“Cute,” Cullen said softly.

Alistair sighed. Thank the Maker.

Cullen gripped his hips and pulled them up, forcing Alistair to lay with his ass in the air. 

Lips touched his skin, softly, at the small of his back. Alistair gasped and tensed. Cullen reached up, beneath his shirt, and stroked over his shoulderblades. “Relax,” Cullen whispered, “Just relax.”

It was difficult to relax when someone was kissing down your ass and when strong, callused hands were spreading you open. Impossible to relax when someone’s tongue was slowly and gently probing at you, making you wet in a place you’d never been wet before. It was damned difficult to relax when that tongue flicked and pushed inside of you, and when those hands slid down to cup your thighs.

“Maker,” Alistair panted, “Nn, you--- _Cullen, yes_.”

“Good,” Cullen said, his voice a little rough. He bit down on Alistair’s ass, curling his dull nails into the back of his thigh. “You taste good, Alistair.”

“Oh, well, th-thank you,” Alistair stuttered. He closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sound stronger, to be confident. “I bet I feel even better.”

Who said that?

“Now is as good a time as any to find out,” Cullen said. Still, he stayed where he was for a few minutes longer, licking and kissing and nibbling. Alistair groaned and clutched the sheets up in his fists, rocking back against Cullen’s face.

His impatience was well rewarded. There was a little fumbling behind him as Cullen searched his nightstand for lubricant. Alistair heard his heavy breathing as Cullen moved out of his clothes and stroked his cock with his slick fingers. It was more than he could stand not being able to see Cullen, not knowing what kind of pleasure he was feeling.

Then those slick fingers were inside of him and Alistair was moaning and twisting and begging for things he’d hardly even had knowledge of an hour before.

Cullen moved his body on top of him, stomach pressed to Alistair’s back. His breath was hot and damp at the nape of his neck, and then it was on his ear. Cullen licked his earlobe, rocking his hips against Alistair’s ass. Cullen’s cock slid back and forth over his ass, pre-come damp on the small of Alistair’s back. 

“Are you ready?” Cullen panted.

How sexy would it have been if Alistair had whispered, _Yes, fuck me?_ How sexy would it have been if he had lifted his hips a little higher, reached back and guided Cullen inside of him? 

Probably very.

Alistair was not a sexy man.

And he wasn’t ready.

“No,” Alistair whispered, “I’m not.”

Cullen would be disappointed, if not angry. After all, what had Alistair done if not teased him mercilessly? He had let things go too far, and he had led Cullen to believe they could go even further. 

The small nibble on his ear and nuzzle against his temple just proved that when it came to judging people, Alistair was the worst. 

“All right,” Cullen murmured, letting his tongue graze Alistair’s jaw, “Is there anything that you _want_ to do?”

Alistair wanted them to stay as they were. It was comforting to have Cullen all over him, to feel the heat from his body mingling with his own. It was nice to have his breath against his ear and the small bit of stubble on his chin scratching his shoulder. 

“This,” Alistair murmured. He rocked his hips a little, pushing his ass up against Cullen’s cock. Cullen gasped against his ear and he gripped Alistair’s hips, slamming his own forward and putting intense friction on his cock.

“Maker,” Cullen breathed.

“Mmm, I like that,” Alistair whispered, swiveling his hips under Cullen’s hand, “That’s nice.”

“Alistair---“

Cullen meant to say more, but Alistair knocked the breath out of him when he pushed his ass back roughly, grinding against Cullen. Alistair spread his thighs apart and reached down to stroke his cock. He had spent most of his life in the Chantry, a place where even looking at someone wrong earned you being dragged out of the room by your ear. He imagined if the Grand Cleric could see him now, she’d do more than pull him from the room and give him a firm talking to.

Why forbid such a thing? Why would the Maker want to keep two people from feeling this kind of pleasure? Every inch of Alistair was tingling and burning, everything was foggy and hot and wonderful. He couldn’t tell what his body was doing, or what Cullen was doing, all he knew was that every grind of his ass and swivel of his hips and stroke of his hand was pushing him closer to the edge and he loved every second of it. 

“Cullen,” Alistair breathed, “Nn, I can’t—“

_Hold on_ , Alistair had meant to say, to finish his floating thought, but his body was suddenly too hot, and the pleasure was suddenly too intense. It was an exquisite kind of pleasure the likes of which Alistair had never felt before; as though his pleasure had grown teeth that burrowed under his skin and into his bones. He tried to scream, Cullen’s name, or just an affirmation, or maybe a prayer to the Maker to _make it stop_ or _make it last forever_ , but all he could do was pant and gasp and choke on his words.

There was no sensation of being turned over, but when Alistair opened his eyes he was on his back with Cullen on his knees between his legs. Alistair smiled, weakly, and pushed his fingers through his hair. He was sweaty and he smelled like… well, he imagined that was what sex smelled like. Having never experienced the odor before, Alistair couldn’t be sure. His muscles trembled and he was sure if he tried to stand he’d only succeed in falling on his face.

It felt like he had just gone through a day of training, only there was a pleasant undertone to the ache, in his stomach and knees. Plus, he was quite sure his stomach was covered in come, which didn’t tend to happen after training.

Cullen returned his smile, though his was a bit more strained. There was no doubt as to _why_ when Alistair looked down and saw his cock. He looked painfully hard, the head of his cock flushed and wet with pre-come. Alistair didn’t know what he wanted, or what he needed. 

 

“Do you… Should I…?”

“No,” Cullen murmured, “Mm, no. Just lie there. Just like that.”

He spread Alistair’s thighs wider, massaging the inside of his thigh as his other hand stroked over his cock. Alistair was torn between wanting to look away – feeling like it was only _right_ that he looked away – and being too hypnotized to do anything but stare at Cullen’s hand pulling and twisting over his cock.

To be perfectly honest, he felt kind of useless. He had used Cullen’s body, his heat, his skin, his sweat, to reach his orgasm. There he was, just lying there, while Cullen satisfied himself. It seemed unfair, but Alistair didn’t have the confidence to push his friend back, climb on top of him, and fuck him into the mattress. All he could do was watch him, awkward smile at the corner of his lips, legs curling behind Cullen’s knees, hands reaching up to rub and stroke his shoulders. 

“Lower,” Cullen said. His voice was getting closer to a grunt. Animalistic, raw, _rough_ ; Alistair liked it. It made the heat return to his stomach, minus the teeth. Alistair wasn’t sure where his hands should be. He wished he could have stopped being a clumsy oaf for five minutes, just long enough to give Cullen what he wanted. 

He touched his throat, his neck, his chest, slid his fingers over his nipples—

Cullen groaned and arched his back.

Right, well, that was good. That was _very_ good. He should keep doing that.

Alistair pinched Cullen’s nipples, softly at first, and then a little harder when he realized the breathless noises Cullen was making were actually _good_. Cullen had abandoned finesse and was stroking his cock quickly and roughly, squeezing at the base, rubbing his palm over the head, digging his thumb down against his slit. 

“Alistair,” Cullen growled, “Ahh… _fuck_ …”

Either Cullen had no idea how close he was to coming, or he just didn’t feel the need to warn Alistair; either way, Alistair was a little caught off-guard when Cullen bucked his hips roughly and came against Alistair’s thigh. 

Harder than Cullen was used to, judging by the way the man slumped with his head down, trembling and panting and swearing. 

Uncomfortable silences had never been something Alistair handled well. He could hardly tolerate _comfortable_ silences. He had so many words in his brain, on his tongue, waiting to live on his lips. Nonsense, things better left unsaid, but Alistair had no choice. He had to say them, or else he would explode.

“You want to come a little closer? You can… I mean, if you want to. Or, yes, just stay there. That’s fine too. In fact that’s---“

“Alistair,” Cullen murmured, coming down to rest his body in Alistair’s arms, “Shut up.”

“Oh… Yes… I should probably just stop talking now.” He closed his mouth and lasted about four seconds before asking, “Do you plan on doing this with me again?”

Cullen kissed him. It was warm and wet, all tongue. His teeth caught on Alistair’s bottom lip and gave a gentle tug. “What do you think?” Cullen asked.

“Hard to tell,” Alistair said, brushing his nails down Cullen’s back, “I’m not that bright, or haven’t you heard?”

“You’re plenty bright,” Cullen said. “You’ll go on to do great things, I bet. Something that will change the world. Or maybe I’m a little delirious right now.”

Alistair laughed, rolling his eyes. “Just a little.”


End file.
